Goin' to Work
by Silver Fingerprints
Summary: Poems! Get your poems here! Anyhoo...Some poems are just plain CSI, and some are GSR [with angst!] because who doesn't love a good GSR poem? Funny poems and dark poems. Come and get 'em. Updated!
1. What I Do

_**Goin' To Work**_

**Disclaimer: **Okay, so I don't own this. You know, I did once own them, though, but that was just a dream. If I did own them though, do you want to know what I'd be doing at the moment instead of writing these poems? I'd be sitting with my three best friends in the backyard of my multi-million dollar mansion, floating in a luxurious heated pool, sipping on Dr. Peppers, not even caring about what the hell fan fiction is. But guess again. I'm not.

**Summary:** Here's a series of short and some a little long poems that I've been writing. I hope you like them. PLEASE REVIEW because reviews make nitpicky writers like myself less uptight.

**A/N:**

This probably has some GSR a little angsty, of course…yes, the dreaded angst! because I, if you couldn't tell from my penname am a GS fan, so don't be ranting and raving about it to me, contact my agent instead hehe, that is, if I had an agent!. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. And by the way, this thing isn't beta-ed, and neither is anything else that I write. I print this stuff out, grab a thin tip Sharpie and mark things up to edit it. I do it all myself, so I have nobody to blame for leaving in mistakes if there are any. Hence, I'm anti-beta…go figure…I don't even let the school newspaper editors edit my stories. I'm a grammar and punctuation freak anyway, so I erase and delete a lot on my own. Also, in these poems, there's not much rhyming, so if you like rhyming, too bad, so sad oooh! A rhyme! And I hardly keep a pattern, but who said poems have to rhyme and have to have a pattern? There's no right or wrong answer with poetry, my friends. Enough of this note. You probably want to read the poems now…

The Nitpicky Writer,

Amelia Stanley GeekIsChic

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A/N: No GS in sight in this one, but be on the lookout in the others

_What I Do_

I question

I observe

I investigate

I answer

I am a crime scene investigator

My life is surrounded by death,

The deaths of innocents and even the guilty,

People who I don't even know,

But soon come to understand them very well.

I question

I observe

I investigate

I answer

I am a crime scene investigator

And it's my job, my work

To solve the cause of death and the whodunits.

I do it for them, the victims,

And I do it to help keep the streets out of harm's way.

I question

I observe

I investigate

I answer

I am a crime scene investigator

When it's late in the night,

And it's a midnight Vegas crime,

You'll probably see me out there,

Where I begin a new investigation.

I question

I observe

I investigate

I answer

I am a crime scene investigator

Every contact leaves a trace, they say,

And when we find the clues,

Who knows, the suspect could be anybody,

And it could even be you.

I am a crime scene investigator

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REVIEW! REVIEW!

More is to come, of course.


	2. Just Another Day, Just Another Dead Man

A/N: Some GSR is present…yes, Geek Love, duh, not gunshot residue

_Just Another Day, Just Another Dead Man_

Never was it an ordinary day,

Never was it for the Vegas Crime Lab.

But it was just another day,

And just another dead man,

But a whole different tale from the last.

The lifeless form told them just that and

That it was just another victim,

Just another day, just another dead man.

Homicide and suicide reeking the night,

Robberies and rape and the killings in the fight.

Keeping it silent, they eye the scene of where disaster once struck.

And the ones who observe, the pair,

They looked at anything in the room but each other's eyes,

Because their friendship had been shot to hell and back again.

And the only way they communicate is through

Their work because it's just another day,

And it's just another dead man.

Soon when it gets too rough to work,

She stops by his office, just to see how he is.

He smiles as she enters the already opened door.

Apparently, it's just another great day,

Because they utter the words they been longing to,

For god only knows how long.

Not an ordinary day, yet it's just another.

Not an ordinary life, but a better one.

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Come on, you know you want to! Click the purple button and review!

Yes, there's another poem after this, and another, and another, and another…until I run out of ideas, you'll be stocked with poems.


	3. Cause of Death

A/N: Skip this poem if you despise the GS 'ship

_The Cause of Death_

Gettin' a call from the boss.

He says there's another to be solved.

This is the only reason why he calls me now.

We used to be great friends,

But then it all began to end slowly

In a painful death, right after a case,

When he thought he saw me on the slab.

The cause of death is still unknown.

I guess he just wants us to drift apart, for now.

But we'll talk and we'll banter again sometime soon,

You know, just like the old days,

And maybe this time, he won't run away.

Who cares about the past,

And the cause of death,

Because soon it'll live again,

And everything will be just right,

Just right like they were before.

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Review, review. That's all I ask. They make me happy and it keeps my parents entertained. They like hearing about the reviews I get…sometimes.


	4. Ode to Greggo

_Ode to Greggo_

Freein' himself of all the lab rat days,

'Cause he's just wishing to be a CSI.

Gonna get less cash, says the boss.

Some people just wanna ask him why.

He's a true rocker at heart, yeah, yeah,

But got his first chem-set at age seven.

And he arrives to the scene with a messy trunk,

And this makes everything less like heaven.

Warrick tells him to tidy things up.

With his screwed up kit, he's got the call,

In his gray t-shirt and baggy jeans,

And his spiky 'do, highlighted and all.

Leggo our Greggo, just let him go,

And watch as he dances through the lab.

Blaring music and a exotic dancer's hat,

Damn, those times were just so fab.

Boss-man tells him to keep it down,

Take his hat off and get back to work.

Griss, lighten up, let the boy have some fun.

Gotta admit, he's got a lot of quirks.

But it's no more dancing mad scientist,

But we'll settle for Papa Olaf anecdotes.

And if he decides to run for prez,

He'll definitely get all our votes.

So leggo our Greggo, just let him go.

And sit back and see,

As he catches the bad guys

And becomes that CSI he wants to be…


	5. All Just Fun and Games

_All Just Fun and Games_

Keep on coming, keep on running.  
C'mon, step right up,  
Throw your money,  
And give it all you got.  
You might win, you might lose,  
But whatever happens,  
It's not on your time,  
But that doesn't matter, now does it?  
Runnin' out on the Strip,  
Throwin' a block or two,  
Just for fun and bets.  
Five grand, laid out, tossed out.  
Remember that one girl?  
Oh yeah, the one who got killed?  
Killed on your time, buddy.  
Ah well, just keep throwing your money,  
It'll let out your stress.  
Strolling through the place,  
You remember Boss-man's words.  
You remember the words that she spoke,  
The one who looked into your addiction,  
And thought she saw truth,  
It was just really a lie.  
Trying to win bail money,  
To get a kiddo outta the cell.  
Not tossing blocks anymore,  
'Cause you learned something,  
You that it's all fun and games,  
Until someone gets killed.


	6. Locked Up in a Box

_Locked Up in a Box_

Six feet under,  
Yet clearly alive.  
What happened,  
You just can't recall.  
It's hard to see,  
And you're on your own.  
Something at your fingertips,  
Cool and a sleek black;  
A way out of this mess:  
Suicide.  
The man on the tape,  
He tells you that you,  
This time the victim,  
Can go the slow way,  
Or the fast way.  
You followed the evidence.  
Look where it put you.  
Glass surrounds you,  
And now so do bugs.  
Losing air, losing your life.  
You hear someone, and  
You scream for your all you got.  
They got you now,  
But it's gonna take some time,  
But they'll get you,  
They promise.  
"Put your hand on mine."  
Soon you're flying through the air,  
Then landing face first,  
Into a mouthful of dirt.  
You made it.  
You made it.  
We got you.


	7. A Toast to Honor the Best

_A Toast to Honor the Best_

G'night daytime,  
Hello midnight.  
Everyone's waking up in this town.  
Foolish acts and parties  
Just calling out your name,  
But there's also a little thing,  
That you gotta take of.  
There's that homicide on the Strip,  
There's that fight across the way,  
The one that ended in cold blood.  
What about that B&E over yonder?  
Just another busy Vegas night,  
And they won't stop until it's done,  
'Cause these workaholics don't have any fun.  
After shift, take those two,  
And bring them on down,  
To the bar on the corner of Main and Oakland.  
Set them up with a martini or two,  
And tell 'em not worry about it,  
Because we got them covered.  
Clink our glasses together tonight,  
And honor the best there could be.  
Cheers, to Gil and Sara.

Cheers, to Gil and Sara.


End file.
